Defrosting Loneliness
by RequiemTales
Summary: Loneliness is not a foreign creature to Jack Frost...Though, perhaps Pitch will be able to melt that fear away, if only for a moment. (M/M,Smut,Oneshot)


**A/N:** Loneliness is like caffeine: It gives you anxiety, keeps you up all hours of the night, and is addictive. Quite the terrible thing, really.

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_Hues of gold watch him with interested intent, absolutely submerged in witnessing the Guardian unwind before his very eyes. His fingers and lips know every sensitive point, yet it seems each time they are intimate, more appear for him to memorize. The King of Nightmares and those sounds that beckon fear in the night, attack the porcelain neck with eagerness, leaving purple and red spots as marks of sin. He cherishes every sound he can elict from the boy and chuckles low when they raise in octave._

_Loneliness_ is not a foreign creature to Jack Frost.

Jack is in great pain, for he still believes** he** will leave him.** They** will leave him. **Everyone** will forget him. For, what does Jack Frost do that is memorable?

Except make things a mess of course...And who wants to recall a time when things went wrong anyhow?

It is a mighty thing that claws at his insides and makes him double over in pain, clutching his sides with blunt nails. It tastes like a bitterness so familiar, one would think he would get used to the flavour. Some would think he would learn to enjoy it, acquire a taste for the very thing that hollows out his insides and then steals that very same space away, leaving no room for anyone else. But he doesn't. The foul twinge is like acrid acid against his palette that coats his throat and soul and chokes him. It disintegrates everything that comes in contact with his heart, killing off anything of good.

Even with dark fingers skimming down his sides and kisses so tender does the immortal still doubt himself and feel the bubbling bitter loneliness. As darkness caresses his sides and steals his breath away in the throws of passion, makes his heart thrum so much faster (though, does it really move?-It is dead...After all) that he wishes those sensations could water down the everlasting kindled flame of doubt; But, they do not. The isolation, those years of being found and forgotten (or worse, ignored) are too fresh and too vivid and much, much too familiar. When he travels to bring winter and has to leave them all, even for a second, the heaviness entraps his heart once more and it is almost as if he cannot breathe again. It is almost like he is beneath that icy surface, looking at the moon as shock and frostbite take over and he feels the collapse of his lungs again.

All over again.

_Pitch's tongue snakes from between thin lips and travels from Jack's jaw to his chest. Teeth are allowed free reign and nick at the perfectly unmarred skin. The teenager keens and arches into that hot cavern. The King of Shadows pulls away and makes the Guardian work for his touch. The boy looks at him with impossibly blue eyes filled with a need that Pitch almost recognizes as his own. He closes his eyes and returns his lips to Jack's allowing them to dance and mingle a bit longer, dragging his sharp nails down sensitive sides and making the muscles jump along the way._

Jack remembers a time when he was younger, when he still understood nothing about himself or others, near the beginning of his 300 years of solitude. He recalls himself sitting beneath a tree that loomed high above him, bending as if to steal away his soul and mock him for his _loneliness_. The snow was thick and heavy on the branches, but they held firm.

The winter sprite had sat there with a desolate look in his cerulean hues. Ahead of him was an entire forest of trees, they were so tall. The canopy heads whispered with the wind at each other, most likely making fun of him and his isolation. But Jack, Jack had seated himself by the outlier tree, one that appeared shorter than the rest, several feet away. The tree made him think of himself. It could not move closer to its kind, it was forever stuck beneath dirt, rock, snow...And that was precisely how the Frost child himself felt.

That tree could never leave and for fifty years Jack Frost took comfort in that notion until other trees began to spring up around him and the loner plant. That was his sign to leave and leave he did.

_"I will not leave you."_ _Comes the tantalizing whisper against the shell of his ear from a brush of lips. Jack's breath hitches and is caught in his throat as the words are repeated several times. They suffocate him with an unfamiliar warmth and the truth in their entirity makes his heart yearn. Jack reaches up and brushes away a stray strand of black hair, tucking it behind Pitch's ear. The man grins down at him, a possessive and still endearing look that has the Guardian puddy in his hands. Frost thrusts his hips upward to meet his lover's and grinds. The friction is amazing and they both hiss at it._

They are words he is told every evening, every time he is able to visit his lover. They ring like a symphony of relief in his ears...But only for a moment. Then the weight of reality crashes and he once more submerges himself in that feeling of despair that the teenager hides so very well.

Jack likes to think his loneliness is of a pure colour. A shade of white akin to the newly fallen snow he creates for Jamie on the oddest of days to get him out of a big test...Perhaps if the child's parents are fighting, an extra blanket will fall upon Burgess in a shimmering white so stunning and fluffy, it can be mistaken as beautiful. Yet, anyone who has played in the snow understands it is as fun a source as it is dangerous. It can chill you to the bone and eat you away, frost you over and preserve your body until the sun melts it away. It coats you over and sends you into a deep sleep for all of the season...Until it melts away and you are revealed from your cocoon as a blistering corpse of icy proportion.

And in this blanket of white that surrounds Jack in a loneliness so beautiful it is tragic, there is a darkness trying to make itself known. Like a snake, it slithers within and burrows in Jack's heart as a reminder of what he has. Pitch black is its shade, so dark and different from the rest of the Guardian's heart, one would try and send it away. The immortal teenager does, indirectly of course. His own fear tries to scrape away at the black and when it can't, the darkness so secure it does not budge, the white tries to cover it up and bury it as it does those lost children on a frigid day.

But the darkness is too warm. Like iron hot for branding, it stings at that loneliness and burns it away. The snow of isolation melts into nothing and makes room for more darkness to possess Jack's heart. The hollowed space full of sadness and a feeling of forlorn is liquified and singed clean by the obscurity so that it may expand and grow.

It festers.

_Pitch loves it when Jack clings to him for dear life. As his hot mouth swirls around the head of a straining cock and licks tortuous paths from base to head, the winter seasonal scrapes his nails against the King's scalp. The man takes more into his mouth, encasing it in blissful heat that must drive the boy nuts. He presses his tongue erotically into the slit, gaining a strangled yelp. He lets out a small chuckle about the length and licks away the beads of precome as he man savours the begs for more as Jack presses the palms of his hands into his eyes as his body is literally ready to let go. Then the man pulls away too soon, leaving a near sobbing Jack Frost in his wake, now ready to completely ravish and mark him from the inside out in the most intimate of ways. Pitch wants to defrost that loneliness that has frozen so secure around his heart, he wants it to be his own darkness that encases it instead._

It is a waging battle within the Guardian's heart and he hopes to the Man in the Moon that the dark wins. Years ago he would have never thought he'd say such a thing. But, now he understands...The dark is his only savior. Pitch, is his only hope.

This understanding only grows stronger and more desperate every time the Nightmare King pushes Jack back onto silken sheets the colour of a sky at midnight. When he reaches his pale arms around grey shoulders and threads fingers through tendrils of inky hair, when his moans break on the pleasure he never thought he would obtain, the Guardian allows himself to be swallowed whole by this man.

His heart hurts with every thrust and nuzzle he receives from the Boogeyman, a shock to his system that is so unused to touch.

_The Guardian's legs wind around Pitch's waist as the man looks down upon the teenager with a cocky smirk. It is just as uncharacteristic as it is befitting of his grey features. The man leans forward before he thrusts into that perfect spot of heat and bliss and pries Jack's hands away from his eyes. The precise moment the iridescent blue is revealed, Pitch sinks himself to the hilt in the boy. The pupils are blown wide and almost take over the beautiful cobalt, his mouth opens in a high whine as he adjusts to the feeling of being full again. Pitch awaits patiently and painfully as he keeps himself in check, determined not to hurt the boy. He is like ice, so very fragile and easy to break, he wants it to feel good._

It feels so good, the heat that melts away that case of ice around his heart, like the most powerful drug. Jack wants to scream so loud that MiM can hear him and has to turn away from the marring of one of his precious Guardians. But if there is anything Jack has learned, it is that loneliness is a hell of an addiction, especially when one allows themself to wallow in it and sink further beneath the surface of freezing despair. Yet, like an explosion of passion and need, perhaps Pitch can help him battle this love for the thing he hates so very much.

_It isn't long now, Pitch can feel the coil ready to snap. He breathes heavier than usual, holding back completion so him and the Frost child can come together. He senses the fear in Jack's heart but cannot fully understand it when he is in such a dizzy haze of pleasure. He wraps his hand around Jack's member and is delighted with the groan of satisfaction that escapes frozen lips. He works it fast, in time with his bruising thrusts. The teenager is meeting his thrusts, he has given up to carnal desire. This is Pitch's favourite part of it all (besides the teasing of course) and he swipes his thumb over the slit and he releases deep within his love. Jack's back bends and he screws his eyes shut as he comes as well, all over Pitch's hand and his own chest. The man licks away the substance, leaving a bit for Jack to enjoy. The child's tongue is slow as it slips clumsily over the digit to clean and taste. Pitch smiles and senses that the fear is gone...For now at least._

With each time Pitch cups his cheeks with a gentleness unknown and leans forward to brush hot lips over his own frosty ones...Each time the winter sprite falls asleep on a branch and awakens in Pitch's arms...Each time those words,_ "I will never leave you,"_ are uttered in and after the throws of passion...Jack feels that ice retreat and can almost see the look he must give Pitch; For the one he obtains in return from golden orbs...Is indescribable.

A battle of shadows and loneliness wage within his heart and Jack knows which team he is rooting for...Albeit he also knows the war will never end.

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**A/N:** So, what did you think? I recently got my computer back (a nice guy fixed it for me, I am so grateful) but currently he is trying to retrieve my documents via my harddrive (for that thing got fucked up too) so any works I had on there...May not be retrieved -sigh- But I am so happy I at least have my baby back -snuggles computer-

With this fic I was trying out a different style and a different tense...I am really happy with how this turned out. Thoughts, you guys? Heh.


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